«Football has given me a bit of everything in my life. And no, it didn't take anything away from me. Apart from a few bad knocks." Gigi Riva smiles. He was smiling that day. With a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes I listen to the last "in person" interview granted by the Legend of our life as children, who grew up with the pride of a shield there, on their hearts. Our. And with that number 11 sewn onto that blue shirt, with his arms raised to the sky thirty-five times. Never anyone like him. Never anyone like Gigi Riva. On the eve of his 72nd birthday, 5 November 2016, the Legend opens the door of his office in Via Tola to tell his story. On one condition: the lit cigarette.
Life in one breath. The pain of a father who disappeared too quickly in his Leggiuno. Sardinia seen for the first time from the plane, the "gravel" of Amsicora, the ride towards the tricolour, the "no" to Agnelli's Juventus, the curse of the "Prater" of Vienna, the friend of young people (on all Buffon) with the jacket and tie of a national team manager. And then the family, his sons Mauro and Nicola, with the burden of their father's name to carry on the football fields of Sardinia. «And yes, it wasn't easy for them. They were called only by their first names."
And then Cagliari, his Cagliari, our Cagliari. The last time at the stadium was on 12 February 2017 to collect the CONI golden collar. But he hadn't been to the stadium for a long time. He watched the matches again on TV knowing the result. "I can not do it. I get stress. And I already have a lot of stress. And Cagliari makes me suffer. Suffer and rejoice." Gigi Riva was smiling. He smiles. He will smile. Forever.
